A little light fiction.

The rain came down, alternately in sheets, and in sprinkles. It was typical for a mid-day May storm like this one. There was a fair bit of wind but the overhang provided some protection. It didn't keep him from getting a little wet, but it was better than being soaked.

He looked out onto the field, wondering if the rain was going to do anything for the grass. It had been dry for a long time, and the back field had begun to brown a bit under the torturous sun. The rain, in a way, was welcome relief for some. No, it wasn't the rain that bothered him. The rain, he could deal with. The cold, he could also deal with. Winter was a welcome time to him.

It was the combination of rain and cold, that chilled him. It made it difficult to stand still and wait. But he waited, for what seemed like an hour. His watch only counted about 10 minutes.

Finally a touch on his shoulder focused his attention behind him, though he didn't turn around. "You're late.", he said, with just as much of a shiver in his voice as in his body.

"No, you're early."

"Oh? And what time is it?" More shivering.

"Seven. Your watch must be fast again."

He turned to face her, amused. "This...", he said, tapping the timepiece on his right wrist, "...gets it's signal from the tower. It is never fast. Yours is a little wind-up toy. Just the humidity is probably enough to send it out of sync. Besides, I figured you'd be late, anyway. Did you even get my message?"

She sighed. "What message?"

"The email I sent you."

"When did you send it? I usually only turn that thing on for an hour or so on Saturdays."

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to get with the times, you fossil." He had stopped shivering now, and was smiling fully.

"Maybe.", she said. "In the meantime, I'm content to do things the old-fashioned way."

The rain began to let up, and a few bits of sunlight started breaking through the clouds, warming a spot or two of the damp earth. "Yes, I got your letter. It was nice. I like your handwriting. It's all swoopy and swirly..." His voice trailed off as a slight blush came to him.

"I really can't believe you're still shy around me."

It was his turn to sigh. "I don't know. You still affect me, after all these years."

She decided to take it as the compliment it was. 75 years later, he could still make her smile just by being himself. "Ready to go?", she asked, taking his hand.

He simply nodded in response, and just as they had done for so many years, the went walking through the grass and trees, alone, together, and happy.

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I have no idea what possessed me to write this. Just kind of had the scene in my head. If any of my more literary friends would like to critique, please do so.